Andraste's Grace
by Dread Wolves
Summary: Wherever he had gone trouble had always followed him. This time, however, it came in the form of a stubborn dark-haired Seeker and a free-spirited mage who had the world to save. But he was The Champion, right? How hard could it be? [ potential spoilers & eventually rated m. ] hiatus.
1. I

**I.** Drinks

_"So few pleasures in life are as fine as your company."_

* * *

They were always chaste glances.

They were quick, simple and sweet and though often times curious little things that left one wanting more they were always quaint. Lady Trevelyan was, after all, a lady and though a mage she was not short upon etiquette. Staring was never an option.

But there were times in which Hawke caught himself. He would often fantasize about the treases of night and silver eyes hidden beneath the black curls. He was here upon business matters and quite frankly what chance did he have with the famed Inquisitor? His time had long since come and now he was just an ex-hero looking to clean up his mess, an apostate simply running and hiding just like before.

He stood no chance and even the glances shouldn't have been allowed, for whatever they were worth.

Hawke never knew when to let things go, however. He was weak to a pretty girl who made him forget what wrongs had been done. And even weaker to ones who lingered in his mind like a dark shadow. He was prone to trouble and in the case of romance it was no different.

"_Foolish boy_," he had recalled a girl saying to him once. "_Don't you know when to let things go?"_

Regardless there was a moment in which his weakness drove him mad. He sat in the makeshift tavern and milked an ale for every pretty coin spent upon it. Sometimes when he was here he would imagine Isabella lounging against the bar while Varric was up in his room working on some tale or another. Though surrounded by friends and family he admittedly found himself alone. Maybe that's why he liked her so much, because she made him feel less lonely.

But still he sat and listened to the bard's songs drone on. She had a pretty voice and he decided he'd give her a sovereign or two later on when he was finished drowning here. Whatever was left of the Amell fortune hadn't been put to good use these days. Nothing did for that matter.

"I... Figured I would find you here." the champion heard from off to the side. The golden eyes shifted to the left and quickly caught sight of the seeker. Varric spoke of her and warned him not to get caught alone with her. Something about getting a knife to the book, or something.

"Am I that predictable?" he had suggested with a quaint smile before looking back to the barkeep. He threw another pretty coin his way and in return Hawke was offered yet another drink. He set it off to the side for his company who had slowly came to him. She was like a cautious little bird picking up breadcrumbs. Cautious but hungry.

"Varric said you were here," she said while awkwardly finding her place at his side. "So I don't know if predictable is the right word or not."

Hawke chuckled lowly while shaking his head. He noticed the woman lace her fingers around the mug's handle but for the most part had them stay there. She wasn't too quick to down it and Hawke couldn't help but to feel the same. It was nice to take things slow, even for a second.

"Predictable or not, Varric was telling the truth and that's scary." It was clear from her expression that she knew Hawke was right. The dwarf telling the truth in any sort of fashion signalled something bad and right now more bad wasn't something they needed. Or ever for that matter.

However there was a new silence that overcame the two and from their seats they both quietly listened to the bard sing. It was cold out as the night winds were blowing and neither appeared to be in a rush to leave. And though both were lacking any words to say it was nice.

How often were they allowed to just sit back and to enjoy life so simply?

But as the minutes struck by so idly it began to be painstakingly aware that there was something she wanted to say. She did not approach for no reason and Hawke simply awaited for her to strike when she was ready to. Maybe she wanted to be drunk enough to actually ask it. If that were the case then he figured he probably wanted to be drunk enough to answer it.

But keeping all of that in mind in order to get drunk one needed to drink, which she had not done save for a sip of two leaving the man wondering what her true intentions were.

"So is there something you needed?" he asked then realizing that he probably should have asked a lot sooner considering. The raven-haired woman didn't look to him, merely kept her eyes upon her drink, as more silence followed.

Was he intimidating or did she just have a problem talking? From the way Varric had told him he was sure it was the former. Something about her gaining a crush from the story he had shared once? That and he had heard her before. She had a colourful vocabulary that sometimes made his head ache.

"I just... Wanted to ask you some questions." She said provoking Hawke to turn to look at her. She was stiff and he felt a little bad for her.

"Isn't that why we're apart of the inquisition? To inquisite stuff?"

The woman gave a bit of a scowl as she looked to him. "It would seem you do not lack the humor in Varric's stories."

"Hopefully I don't lack the looks either," The champion jested softly. "or the charm. Those are the best parts of me."

But the woman merely shook her head and quaintly pressed onward. "Varric has said many good things about you. I heard the tale straight from his lying little mouth and I can't say I expected any less. It's almost a shame really."

Hawke gave a light but playful furrow of his brows. "Glad to hear I didn't disappoint, maybe?"

She merely shook her head again and quickly moved onward. She didn't come for his wit or his looks, she came for the truth. "Is it true you and the Inquisitor are..." the woman began while looking away. "An item?"

Suddenly Hawke felt the smile wipe away from his face as he listened to the other tavern-goers talk among themselves. He didn't realize how loud it was until this very moment.

"I'd say us as an item is just as likely as a hole ripping itself through the sky but then I'd just look like an idiot," he said after a few brief seconds. "so no. Why?"

"Because." she answered with an almost matter of fact tone. "I don't want Varric to write of any soppy tragedy if you were to break her heart. It would ruin a good tale."

"Oh? I didn't realize you read his stuff. From how I hear it you much rather shove a knife in it."

Through his remarks the man knew very well that it was the other way around in term of himself and the Inquisitor but all he did was smile. There were some things people should have known and some things they shouldn't have. Maybe it was better to have been the villain as at least that way it was easier to comprehend.

"I'm sensing some jealousy." Hawke jested once more but this time provoking a rather serious reaction. Instead of merely scowling the seeker instead gave a deep leer and turned to face him.

"I beg your pardon? I am not jealous of the Inquisitor! Honestly."

He gave a giddy little laugh and batted his eyes. "Are you sure? I'm sensing some hostili-"

But before any more of a reaction could be mused the woman had picked up her mug and tossed it at him. In consequence the entire bar fell silent as they watched the warm liquid cover every inch of his vestments. Honestly this had been the best waste of the Amell fortune yet. He'd have to write Carver about this one.

"I am not jealous." she muttered before getting upward to leave and pushing through the watching bystanders. Hawke on the other hand sat stilly while shaking off some of the excess drink. It certainly wasn't a knife in the book but it had its charm.

"I think I need another one." Hawke said while handing the barkeep yet another coin. He definitely needed to be drunk if he were to face Varric's jests about this encounter.

That and he'd need to be drunk for the rest of his life to let this one go. And unfortunately for him this would not be the last of his encounters with the Lady Seeker.

Not with his luck.


	2. II

**II.** Sorry Isn't Silk

_"Practice does make perfect."_

* * *

The room was quiet, warm, and held a certain near sanctuary-like feel to it.

Of course there was a gaping hole in the stone that gave a nice view of the mountain range off in the distance but for the most part it was a nice place. It certainly was no estate but as long as it wasn't a replica of his uncle's shack then what was there to complain about? He had four sturdy walls, a soft bed and warm blankets. Really it was Andraste's bosom compared to some of the makeshift tents he had called home while on the run. That and the big seller was that it definitely was _nothing_ like Gamlen's.

Maker, he hated that place.

Ever since then he hadn't really been able to eat cheese the same which was a shame really considering he used to love it as a child. A fresh slice of bread, a hefty sum of cheese, his brother fighting him for the rights of having the biggest piece of everything. They were the staple of his childhood and now Hawke couldn't even think of it without feeling queasy. Now along with getting a severe reminder of what others things had been lost he would feel nauseous on top of it all.

How he missed cheese, or at least the idea of cheese's taste.

But through the growing night the champion found himself alone with his thoughts. There were times when he had wondered about his family, tried to figure out what their thoughts upon this whole war would have been if they had lived to see it. He could only imagine his father trying to keep them all safe and his mother making cakes despite them being on the run. She liked to make cakes, all different kinds. Especially those awful fruit ones heavier than a brick during Feast Day.

Sometimes Hawke thought of his sister and what she would have been like if she hadn't been taken so early. Where would she have been now? Happy to be alive or equally as miserable? It was hard to imagine Bethany miserable though.

Carver was a proud warden, strong and finally less of an ass. Would Bethany have been the same in terms of being a warden as well or maybe something else? She would have been perfect at it regardless of whatever it was. And even if it was far from suitable she would have endured. Bethany always endured.

It was thoughts like these that made Hawke quiet, however. He missed them all, alive or dead. Even that uncle of his. Wherever that old man was Hawke was sure he was in debt and trying to weasel his way out of it. It was the good ones that were taken too soon leaving the world a darker place.

It was lonely as each of them slowly left him behind to find their places elsewhere. But that was the life of a champion, right? Some things were lost while others were gained as that was the unfortunate law of glory. You had to equally give what was taken.

And then that's when he thought of her, that lovely creature with silver eyes. What did she lose to get here? Who did she have to let go in order to gain this monumental task placed upon her shoulders?

The Inquisitor was a beautiful woman. Those starlit eyes, soft voice and rosy lips, all of her really, made the champion wonder if there had once been someone special in her life. There had to have been, certainly. A creature as divine as her did not go unnoticed, he was sure of it.

Shifting uncomfortably in the wooden chair made Hawke realize that it had become unseasonably warm within the room as his thoughts carelessly whisked him away. Or was it just him? He never could tell.

The desk was a tiny thing and it slowly occurred to him that his back was beginning to stiffen from the many hours spent at the old, cluttered table. There was a good portion of that day and evening wasted there. He had even gone as far as skipping dinner which was most unlike Hawke. If there was one thing the man didn't like to miss was dinner and though deep in thought he could already feel the affects churn his insides like a storm.

But for now he decided to simply lay on the bed. He didn't feel like eating, just thinking, and he did just that. The covers were cold from exposure to the hole and though initially sending a shiver down his spine the evenness of his body made up for the chills. Within moments the male's body felt better but soon enough a few more thoughts fell into place and some were not as pure as he had intended.

They were considerably chaste but equally as colourful as anything else. They began slow and full of sweet kisses, humble but hungry. Hawke had had the pleasure with other women before but he was sure the Inquisitor was better which, of course, reflected interestingly in his thoughts. Even in his imagination he had hungrily wished to touch every sweet curve hidden beneath her robes. And she was just as forthcoming with that exploration which only fuelled that desire.

Was he a terrible, terrible man for thinking of the Maker's newest prophet so deviously? Probably. Would he regret these thoughts later? Probably. Not that it mattered much considering he was already this far and probably would only ever get this much out of this infatuation with her. A terribly sad truth but what was one to do?

Instead of any further question or doubt he felt his hands search for answers upon his own body. Thoughts wandered and they made his stomach twist in knots with every sweet kiss planted somewhere new. The Inquisitor with her starlit eyes and rosy lips tempted him. They always did.

Oh, how could he refuse her now?

Somewhere between himself and his wild thoughts the clothes that he had been wearing had come off only to be tossed carelessly and haphazardly upon the cold stone. It was chilly but not for long as his body began to warm with each stroke his fingers had circled upon his flesh. Hawke hadn't done this for a long time and he tried not to get ahead of himself. He didn't want to let it all get passed him so quickly when it was just starting to get good.

There were soft noises then, gentle ones. They made him rock a bit faster while his imagination kept with the pace. Hawke could only wonder what it actually was like with her. Wonderful, certainly.

And then he heard the noises again. Hazier, faint, but still very much present. But because he didn't really care he had ignored them only to continue the build up. They were probably just the sound of the bed or something, it didn't really matter anyway. It was finally getting good and he had no time for trivial matters.

Or at least until the sound of the door's iron latches bending backward caused him to slow down with their shriek. The trespasser had her back against the door as she pushed it open, in her hands a tray full of food.

Hawke gave a quick, curious glance and noticed the sudden company before freezing completely.

"Here, Champion, the dinner that you had missed." the dark haired woman began quietly as her body turned inward. "And an apple and extra slice of cheese as an apology for my... Recklessness the other day."

Yes the thought was certainly nice but the timing was impeccable. It was clear they both beheld the same thought as they slowly caught the other's eye, the woman's expression blank but growing increasingly red as the scene before her spelled itself out. The Seeker knew the lack of a response to her knock meant something. Why did she never listen? Maker.

"Good to see you're coming to your senses." he said then in an attempt to break the tension, his hand still lingering against himself. "Apples are the best form of apology to any sort of clothing-harm."

"Coming to _my_ senses?" she said then, her fingers gripping the tray a little more tightly than before. It was evident she was no longer red from embarrassment but rather fury now. "It is _you_ who should be apologizing to me, not the other way around!"

Hawke was curious then. "Me apologize? For what? I didn't do a thing to you. If anything you should say sorry to my clothes, they're the real victim here."

But then he saw her, the movement of darkness catching his eye as she entered through the ajar door. He could feel his stomach tighten then as the color drained from his face. "Cassandra," the gentle voice said. "I heard that you wished to see me?"

And then she noticed him watching her, naked and in the palest of flesh. At first the silver eyes only studied the figure, a second of silence ebbing at the edge, before the creature of dark flesh touched lightly upon the subject.

"Well, I guess even mages need strong grips as well. And that's a lot of staff to keep hold of."

"Inquisitor!" Cassandra looked almost appalled as her attention fell upon the female mage then. There was a light shrug as a coy smile danced upon her fair features, laughter threatening to break through the rosy lips. The Seeker could hardly believe her ears let alone her eyes.

"We shouldn't be seeing the Champion in such a state! And then joke about it!"

"Yes but how often do you walk in on a legend _practicing_? "

Through the lightness of the entire situation all Hawke could do was hope no one else would walk in unexpectedly to find him this way. It was bad enough these two were here discussing his "grip" but he didn't need Varric there recording everything.

All of this already vaguely reminded him of the time Bethany had accidentally walked in on him followed by Carver. That certainly took a long time trying to bribe them to be quiet about what they saw. He suspected that no matter what Hawke would have offered Varric he would have politely said no just to blow this entire situation out of proportion in his next book. That would have been icing on the cake.

But it was clear the Seeker had far since reached her point of entertaining the entire notion any longer. Instead she quickly threw the tray downward before turning to storm out leaving the door wide open. The cold was seeping in then and caused the Champion's naked flesh to rise with small little bumps. The Inquisitor was the last one there and she turned to look at him after a moment of watching the other angrily leave. She looked mostly sympathetic but still amused by the entire thing.

"Well," she said softly while giving a kind smile to the pale Champion. "That was certainly bracing. Amusing, but bracing."

"You're not the one on the bed, your Eminence." he replied causing a bigger smile to brighten her face. Maybe that was the way to look at the entire situation, at least he made her smile even if it was at his own expense.

"It's good to see that even legends can let loose. I guess I'll leave you to your practicing and go find Cassandra. I'm sure she will be an absolute delight."

Hawke gave a light nod and she smiled softly once more before turning to leave, the door closing shut tightly behind her. After a moment of making sure they were gone all he could do was finally loosen up. There was no longer the feeling to finish what had been started as that had long since been lost.

But the most pressing matter of all was who was going to get up to clean up the mess, specifically the cheese. Maker how the very thought repulsed him.

Cheese was an omen, even in just thought and vaguely he wondered what even worse endeavours entailed. He could only hope it wasn't as bad as this. Then again, was there anything worse that being caught pleasuring one's self?

He dared not to think of something, out of precaution.


	3. III

**III.** Warden

_"What was I to you, besides a broken promise?"_

* * *

Sometimes, to occupy himself while the Inquisitor was away trying to fix the world, he would spend time with the soldiers.

They were always eager to speak with a legend and even more so hearing a legend's stories of myth and peril. Most of the young ones would look to him with that spark in their eyes while the older more experienced ones would linger at the edge, listening carefully and quietly. They liked what he had to say as well but not so much as the greenhorns did.

And here he was in the tavern with those that lingered. Lady Trevelyan was away seeking to prevent the empress' demise and hopefully gain an ally in the process. Her job was a large one but a hopeful thing, he believed she could do it. Not that a woman of her strength needed too much hope, of course.

But still there was a certain edge that swept over them. To make it seem less daunting he enjoyed a drink or two while some of the other guests watched him closely. There were some who couldn't believe it was him and some who still doubted. Either way he was watched and words burbled among the guests.

"Excuse me," he heard then provoking a look toward the noise. "Do you mind if I ask you something, Ser Champion?"

To his side a young man stood awkwardly. Barely out of his teens and straw haired with light rosy cheeks. There was a certain honesty in his blue eyes that Hawke found almost endearing if a bit sad. Too many of these youngsters sought glory where there was only death.

"Certainly, what's on your mind?" Hawke offered him the same as he was having and all too eagerly the boy accepted the offerings. He was like a lost pup and it vaguely reminded him of his brother. Back before he grew up resentful of what gift he lacked.

But there was a light pause between the two as the amber drink quenched their thirst. Hawke was beginning to wonder what exactly it was he wanted but decided not to press anything. Thoughts of an encounter with a certain Seeker sent shivers down his spine and though it was nearly two weeks since then it was still far too real. It was a harrowing encounter, one he did not wish to repeat.

"Some of the boys were wondering if you had any stories to share?" The young soldier asked after yet another half a drink down. Hawke bit back a smile in hopes of seeming almost gruff. It may have been wrong but sometimes seeing the younger ones shake in their boots made him almost nostalgic.

"I do," the Champion answered after his own sip. "Will it be just you or will the others be joining us?"

"Oh thank you Ser! We won't take too much of your time, we promise."

And then just like that five appeared making a total count of seven. Hawke hadn't been surprised by those who came to him and almost as quickly he paid for more drinks. He may have liked to see their wide eyes and hands shake but he didn't wish to treat them wrong, not when they were probably going to die anyway. Besides he still had a nice size of that fortune left and it did get weighty during his longer travels.

After they had all gotten settled at a new table to accommodate them all Hawke wondered what exactly they were looking for in a tale. However his question didn't linger long as it had been quickly answered, almost as if they had long since discussed it among themselves.

"Can you tell us a story about a good romp? They say heroes get it better."

Hawke could feel a dark grin sneak itself across his face as the six stared up at him. Sometimes they were this blatantly curious, sometimes they weren't. Their indiscretion with this particular question made him all the more amused as they sat wide-eyed. He imagined that if Varric were here as opposed off to saving the world at the Inquisitor's side he would have spat up his drink while choking on a laugh. It was good to have seen Varric again, even if most of the time he was with Lady Trevelyan.

"A good romp, huh? Looking for something particularly saucy or just the usual spice us legends get?"

Now curiously enough they were straightforward with this as well. "Not dirty or anything, the _best_."

The Champion turned his head curiously and thought about it for a moment. Their hopeful eyes watched him closely as he drifted into the depths of his mind. It was quiet, a gentle but almost melancholic quiet.

He thought of this question and though he had many quaint meetings there was someone he hadn't thought of in a long time. She came with a whirlwind, strong and unwavering for a mage in a land full of so many eager to strike her down. It was this creature of certain prowess that caught his attention by almost dumb luck. Even now he sometimes didn't know what it was that actually pulled them together.

"It was with a young woman, dark auburn hair that fell to her waist and steel eyes." he began shortly after he recalled a particular moment with this young woman. "She was soft and it was back when the blight had just ended. She came from across the sea seeking something that Kirkwall had."

There was not a half beat skipped as they moved in closer to make it all the more real. "Where did you guys do the deed?"

"The docks at night, she liked the idea of danger. It got the blood flowing, she said." Now there was a mystified air that circled them. They couldn't help but to be hopelessly enthralled by the tale their Champion had spun. It may have been only a few words but they were entangled by the notion of what he had experienced. It was perfect, exactly what they had imagined.

"What was she like, you know? Down there?" the one who had done all the questions gestured to his chest and it made the man choke on yet another laugh. He must have been from Fereldan, the accent stuck out to Hawke just as much as the rugged charm. It made him cock his head slightly in amusement with the very thought.

"She had an excellent bosom. Soft and warm, gentle to the touch. But the best part? Warden's have certain reach and flexibility that others lack."

Then he heard him, that warden Alistair. There was a sound of wooden legs scraping against stone that had ushered in a certain silence among the group. He appeared from his table and to theirs with a quaint if not bemused look upon his face. "You wouldn't happen to be talking about _the_ Hero of Fereldan, would you?"

Hawke knew of that name and knew well of the hero's exploits. However Hawke also knew something else and shifted in his chair as the thought crossed his mind. "Should I be? People tend to have certain traits they share with others, heroes are no exception to common things. Even I have a dozen replicas out there."

But the warden in his company shook his head while moving toward the table a little closer. His hands grazed the wooden tabletop while the six young men watched over those that were superior to their own ranks. The Champion gave the once-Prince a curious look as he held something over his head, a charmed smile caressing his lips.

"There's only one woman I know by that description. Pretty thing with red hair and gray eyes, ended the Fifth Blight and went to Kirkwall in search of family? By how you tell it she got a little more family than anticipated."

Hawke kept his posture even as he faced the warden's accusation eye-to-eye. "And just where do you get your information? From somewhere legitimate, I hope. Don't want you wardens falling from grace anymore."

But Alistair only shook his head once more as that smile only grew a little more amused. Hawke could feel something shift that made him a bit worrisome. He wasn't necessarily an Andrastian but in this moment he felt like praying.

"Your brother likes to tell that tale when he's feeling particularly good," he finally mused after a moment of contemplation. "He says you met your cousin, Miriam _Amell_, at the dock when she came through searching for you guys. He says you two had a thing before she up and left you?"

Alistair made sure that his eyes held the other during this next crucial part. "Miriam was a lively soul but I don't think she had ever been one to just tumble and leave like that. There's a certain fault in one of these tales, I'm sure."

Now this is where Hawke had two things stick out in his mind. First and foremost he would officially leave Carver for dead in the next blighted hole he could find and secondly was that it was his own turn to hold something against the warden. They may have been allies, perhaps even friends, but there were times they fought like they were enemies.

"The curious thing about all of this talk of a certain warden, your very companion at one point, is that you leave out the best part? So like you wardens."

Alistair also kept strong as the soldiers attentions turned to him to watch his reaction closely. The ex-Prince made sure to not falter under the sudden scrutiny.

"For all your worth, for all that was between you two, you couldn't have made her stay? Varric tells it like a tragic love story, the prince who couldn't keep the girl. It's almost pitiable considering what you had going for you."

There was a silence that fell over them then. Both of the men were quiet as they waited for the sign of falter being the other's eye. Perhaps there was truth in what they spoke, a love lost too soon and one born by pure luck. Sometimes they just needed a reminder as to what had been gained and lost during their rise to power.

"Varric tells a lot of stories." Alistair said then as he rose and backed away from the silent table. "Dwarves like to do that."

Perhaps this was where Hawke might have found a certain smugness but he disregarded it and only shrugged his shoulders. "You just have to pick and choose what it is that you believe. Believe everything, you're gullible. Ignore everything and you will live a very poor life."

But Alistair only smiled at the comment as he turned away to leave. "Spoken just like her, you guys truly are a unique family."

The Champion only held his tongue then and watched as the other male disappeared through the door to the outside world. The young soldiers on the other hand found themselves in complete awe of what had happened. Two legends at odds end, that was better than some sex story any day.

But then the questioned lingered, the blond boy being the only brave enough soul to ask. The others were silent but hopeful in an answer. "Was she really your cousin?"

Hawke rose from his seat as well, his eyes not moving downward to the kid. Sometimes the man didn't wish to see their reaction for any purpose. "That depends on which tale you choose to believe."

But before anymore questions could be asked the Champion left. There were some things that needed certain thought and he wished to do it without an audience. However the moment he pushed through the door a flicker of dark eyes caught his attention promoting a brief pause. She stood silent, eyes curious but down as if to ignore him. Her lips were in a thin and hard line.

Seeker Cassandra was quiet and Hawke had suspected she knew more than she had let on while pushing past him to enter that dark hole of spirits and lost souls. There were some things she had heard and Hawke knew.

Hawke knew.


	4. IV

**IV.** Truth

_"You had a way of adding color to life, darkness or not."_

* * *

There were always those who forgot that, above his title and his name, he was just a man. It was so easily swept under the rug that he was a person, not just The Champion, and though the name was hard earned it did not define him. He was a person just like everyone else and sometimes even he forgot about that small but important fact. As horrible as that had been.

A lot of the time he found himself alone. Most of the time on purpose and even now, here upon the battlements staring out across the sea of white capped mountains and darkness, he enjoyed the quiet solitude of the nothingness. Below him there was the hum of cheering, drunk soldiers and they sang long into the night as the starlight grew colder. Earlier he had left the tavern after an encounter with the warden Alistair and had been standing here ever since, thoughts floating between themselves. There were certain things that required his attention after having been brought up during the conversation and he quietly stewed over them. The scenery made it a little easier to take in, at least.

But that had been many hours ago by then. Soon the dawn would arrive, the glory of its golden rays chasing away the black coldness, and in time the day would make the night yesterday. Hawke had so easily let the time slip away, there was not a single care in the world for it passed him by so quickly like smoke beneath pale moonlight.

"Champion?" there was a sudden voice then causing the man to shift his attention to the source of the noise. There the creature stood, dark leer and lips the color of summer roses: Cassandra.

"Yes?" he replied while moving away from the great stone pillar his body pressed against. He took note of her stiffness and he vaguely wondered what it is that he had done wrong this time but remembered the lack of a dark glare earlier that evening while he passed her on the way out. The Champion could already feel tensions grow and his stomach knotted.

"There was something that I had needed to ask you," The Seeker spoke while bringing the tips of her fingers together, he noticed the faded leather around the edges from constant rubbing. "it's about something I heard earlier and wanted you to clarify?"

Now there was a quietness quickly ushered in. They stared at one another, golden eyes meeting black ones, and he swore he could see the edge of a sharp knife glinting from within the darkness. The Champion felt himself bemused however. "Clarify what?"

The Seeker made sure to keep eye contact in order to make the depth of her question known. "I had heard that the Hero of Fereldan is your cousin, and that you had slept with her while she passed through Kirkwall?"

Hawke could only imagine the thoughts swimming in her head then. Accusations of taking advantage of her, the great hero of the fifth blight, or perhaps even shaming him for an incestous relationship that was really nothing more than a chaste kiss. There were many other things on her mind, he was sure, but he didn't wish to try and guess them. It would only make things darker than need be.

"Second cousin, actually. Her mother and my own were firsts." he answered after a short moment, his tongue whisking itself against his teeth as he spoke. The lady scrunched her nose at the response as if it beheld a bad taste upon her lips. It didn't satisfy her and he knew that from her disgruntled look.

"_Why_ was she in Kirkwall? What did she hope to find there and where did she go after that?"

"She was looking for her sister and brother," Hawke replied in a gentle voice hoping that it would help settle in better. "Wherever she went afterwards is beyond me. Somewhere wherever they went, I'm sure."

In spite of the softness in which he tried to speak in it did nothing to sedate the anger growing within her. The Seeker's hands moved downward, the sound of leather tightening in the process. Hawke was unsure of what to do or say next as he was sure it would only set her off. And considering the lack of drink or food to be tossed away, he shuddered inwardly at what might be thrown this time and at what.

Then there was silence that followed quickly after. Cassandra looked to be in deep thought and he anxiously looked away then. He vaguely wondered if she had spent the entire evening fuming over this but he soon decided she probably had. She just seemed like the type who would and that was enough for him.

"Did you love her?" she asked quickly but in a tone almost too quiet for her. His brows cocked a bit and he looked toward the Seeker who adamantly stared at him.

"Wait, what?"

The same disgruntled look danced upon the sharp edges of her face but at the same time a certain concern lingered. Hawke would never admit it allowed but he liked the way the almost harsh creature looked worried. It made the dangerous situation a little less intense. "I said, did you love her?"

Hawke looked a little curious while the question ebbed at the edge of his mind. He wasn't sure of what he had just been asked and by who but he thought about the question regardless. Maybe he did but who didn't love the Hero of Fereldan, queller of the fifth blight and slayer of the archdemon? She was greatly loved by an entire nation, whether or not he did care for her personally was minuscule in comparison.

"I think a lot of people loved her," the Champion said then while crossing his arms against his chest. "Does it matter what _I_ think of her?"

Cassandra's brows knotted together in a furious way. "It doesn't matter what they think, _they_ didn't sleep with her! Now tell me, did you love her?"

Watching the Seeker made Hawke notice her hands rise slightly while her temper flared. They were clenched together tightly, the leather stretching at the knuckles. If he wasn't so stupid he would have moved back.

"Unless," she spoke once more, a thought occurring then. "you didn't sleep with her?"

Hawke only watched her and held his tongue, his eyes doing most of the talking. The dark brows unwound slightly in confusion as she stared at the golden-eyes man and thoughts leapt about. It was quiet for but a moment longer.

"Did you lie about being with her? About her coming to Kirkwall?"

"No, she came to Kirkwall. But it's a little more complicated than that."

And then suddenly she rose her hand upward and with a swift darkness the feeling of leather snapping against his cheek made even the lingering starlight shatter. His cheek reddened and swelled with pain, shock gaping at his lips. The Seeker had slapped him and he wasn't sure of what had just happen despite its painful obviousness.

"Complicated? You and Varric- _you_ make it "complicated" with your lies! You're nothing more than snakes in the grass!" she shouted provoking a sudden set of onlookers. They stared up toward the scene unfolding with the growing light of morning. They couldn't quite grasp the situation at hand but tried their best to.

"I never should have- augh!" Cassandra quickly turned on her heel then, her hands once more clenched while she fumed. Quickly she stormed toward the steps to go and beat out her anger on something else made of straw.

"Cassandra," Hawke stated before she got too far away. He lunged forward and quickly grabbed her arm provoking her to quickly twist around to shake him off. "Just hold on a moment and let me explain!"

Lightly pausing, Cassandra stared at him and he stood for a moment. There was hope but only a slim amount of it. "Why would I listen to a liar?" the Seeker stated in a sharp tone while ripping her arm from his grasp. "If I did I would go to Varric for ten times the story."

With nothing more to say the dark-haired woman pushed her way toward the stone steps and descended. Hawke stood quiet and found himself feeling a certain shame. Cassandra certainly had a way of reminding him that, in spite of all his titles and apparent greatness, he was mortal just like everyone else and made the same mistakes as them.

Despite all of the chance encounters that led into disaster Hawke felt the need to see her again. For now, however, he would leave her be and let this new development blow over. Cassandra had a way about her that made Hawke realize that sometimes things had a way of shaping something else greater.

And with that thought the Champion knew what needed to be done.


	5. V

**V.** Celebration

_"You liked to dance and I liked dangerous."_

* * *

The Inquisitor was laughing as she danced barefoot upon the cold throne room floor, her dark curls wild against the fluid motion. There was music and she stepped to the sound quickly but gracefully, her starlight eyes glimmering with candlelight and euphoria as she spun around with the others. They had just saved the Empress and had brokered peace between a warring nation and so they had deserved a celebration for what had been won.

Hawke stood to the side and watched quietly. The golden eyes followed her water-like movement as her arms interlocked with another's. She was happy, joyous more like, and he found it exhilarating to watch the Inquisitor let her hair down and be a person. He liked it quite a bit and in a half-truth wished he could join in just as effortlessly. However he couldn't, not really.

"So, are you going to ask her to dance or stand there and look like a lovesick puppy?"

Immediately the Champion looked downward and found himself staring at a smug dwarf, his eyes catching sight of the chest hair almost immediately. Varric stared upward in return and Hawke's brows cocked slightly in a near furrow as he turned to look back into the crowd. "You know I don't dance," he answered while shaking his head. "That's a Carver thing."

"He certainly has the legs for it," Varric answered while turning to catch a glance of a dancing Inquisitor, her voice airy against the cheer as she laughed more. "Then again all you humans do so I don't know."

Hawke gave an amused look while trying to choke back a laugh. "Yeah because short, bearded people are _so_ easily distinguishable."

"And don't forget the same names half the time, that's the best part."

Both stared into the large crowd and found themselves at a bit of a loss the longer they stared into the cheering void. It vaguely reminded Hawke of the time his mother had invited the entirety of High Town over the day they achieved the estate. Of course most only came to see the once mighty Amell homestead, not them, but all in all it was a fair party. The food was good but not as good as it was now. It was actually quite surprising what army cooks could whip up on such short notice and make it work almost as if it had initially been intended. The Inquisitor could charm even a miser out of his last coin.

Speaking of food, however, both The Champion and dwarf had watched that warden Alistair hover around the food closely. He stood closest to the cheese, something Hawke had noted quite instantly considering his disdain for the stuff, and it was amusing to watch him sneak pieces of it when he thought nobody was watching. It was nice to see him let loose as well and enjoyed to watch him hoard it. Hawke would have joined him if the stuff hadn't repulsed him so.

Suddenly Varric spoke up. There was a hint of worry underlying the sound of amusement which made Hawke vaguely curious. He looked over his shoulder slightly, his eyes befalling a mildly concerned Varric who returned the side glance. "So, I heard you and The Seeker have been going at it? I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for the drink and apparent nug wrangling gone awry?"

""_Nug Wrangling_"? And that's a dwarven term for?" Hawke questioned which had provoked his companion to cross his arms over his chest. He was vaguely thankful for that slight movement considering for the natural draw of the eye.

"You know," Varric answered with a dangerously humoured look curving his features. "polishing the sword, slaying the dragon, pike twirling, all that dirty fun? She walked right in on that, did she not?"

Hawke gave a light sigh before turning over to face his friend completely, his golden eyes lingering for a moment upon the twirling beauty within the heart of the dancing crowd. He knew that he'd have to own up on this one day and in truth didn't fully relish the notion of it being right here right now. He vaguely hoped he wouldn't have too much to say upon the matter but knew he wasn't fortunate enough for that luck. Varric always had something to say.

"Cassandra had apparently come to apologize for her outburst. She had a tray full of food and everything the moment she walked in unannounced. To be honest it caught us both off guard and made for one of those "did this just happen or is it a dream?" moments."

But then the dwarf's face changed from charmed to bewildered in almost an instant upon hearing the words. "So it was true!" he said, his face painted with a certain look of shock. "The Seeker _was_ there to apologize! Pancakes was telling the truth after all. Damn, I owe her a drink then."

"Pancakes?" There were many questions circulating through the Champion's mind. Sometimes he couldn't keep track of Varric's little names and half the time needed to question who was and wasn't the named muse. This one in particular made Hawke slightly hungry and dared himself to join Alistair near the food regardless of the cheese at present.

"Just the Inquisitor," Varric replied while shrugging his shoulders. "She and I usually get drinks and bullshit. You wouldn't believe half the stories she's got, Andraste's tits she's seen it all. Reminds me of you really considering all the dangerous and stupid crap you get yourself into. Specifically that Seeker Cassandra."

"Well, that's what legends do right? Get themselves into stupid shit and live to tell the tale?" However past his comments Hawke felt a bit concerned as he looked away. He hadn't known about this, never knew they were close enough to be drinking buddies. It wasn't so much the fact Varric had been off gallivanting with her as it was the fact Hawke had never been told about it. Had all those years in Kirkwall meant nothing when the bitter tang of alcohol tasted sweeter with a pretty face? Then to say nothing of it all? It was a curious thing that made the Champion feel a bit blue.

However the Champion then had noticed the Seeker stare at him from across the way. She was glaring at him, her eyes steely and dark as that leer made her sharp, fair features even sharper. She had still been upset from the night prior and Hawke had figured she would be for the next while. Of course that hadn't stopped him from wanting to make it clear to her that what had been said, what had actually been meant and what she knew had all been different things. However it was hard to explain as it was something he _never_ had to explain. He probably should have kept that story to himself and made something else up. He was definitely kicking himself for it now.

But Cassandra quickly enclosed in on him and he could feel the air tense as she marched across the dance floor. She was like a whirlwind, a violent but beautifully chaotic whirlwind.

"Shit," he heard Varric whisper the moment they both noticed Cassandra marching her way towards them. "I'll have to catch you later to talk about this. You've currently got a shit storm heading your way and I'd much rather be as far away from that blast zone as possible. Good luck."

Hawke was about to return some smart ass words to the dwarf but was quickly cut off by the woman spitting out his title as if it had left a real, poor tasting flavor in her mouth. "Champion," she said while fully enclosing in on him. "A word, if you will?"

"Of course, anything for yo-" but the moment he had gone to reply he felt the sharp jab of her long fingers upon his chest. She poked him backwards until they were alone against the wall and it was at this point it had occurred to him that the Seeker had nearly rivalled him in height. She was tall, fierce and a force not to be reckoned with. He fell upon his words even though they were still thoughts in his head and he felt it best to simply let her get this out of her system. He would try to reason with her when there was less of a crowd and she was more approachable.

"The Inquisitor knows nothing of your perversion," Cassandra whispered in a harsh tone, her accent making it sting all the more. "I would prefer not to sully our Grace's opinion of you lest we wish for this to fail. And as far as I can tell, you have ruined enough things without adding the world and Inquisition to that list."

There was a light pause as she continued to stare him down. Hawke could only concentrate upon the feeling of her finger digging into his chest making for a most uncomfortable sting as she continued to speak. "And I would suggest that if you favor any of your small limbs you would keep well away from her. Go anywhere near her Grace and I wil- "

Then just like that the Champion had noticed her break from the crowd and make her merry way towards them. She was smiling, clearly tired but smiling, and swooping in on them with a quick strike. "My dear Cassandra," Lady Trevelyan began with an almost genuinely concerned tone. "Picking on our dear Champion, are we? Asking him if he has practiced lately?"

Cassandra became visibly flushed but Hawke could almost guarantee it was from a slight anger as opposed to embarrassment. "Unlikely, your Grace. I was just telling the Champion how much of a success your mission was and that soon we will continue the investigation of the missing Wardens."

The Inquisitor rose a brow the moment the other woman finished with her explanation. "And cornering him against the wall, your finger upon him so stiffly, was for? To make sure he felt how real our victory was or?"

"I was just picking something off of his garments. He certainly is a _dirty_ man."

"Funny," Hawke quickly said after she pulled away from him at the Inquisitor's discretion. "Considering how much you enjoy ruining them with warm, free drinks."

Cassandra gave him a sharp glare which made the Inquisitor turn to look away to hide a certain smile. Quickly turning away himself he noticed both the warden and Varric staring at him from next to the food table, a dark amusement lingering among them. He decided that later on he'd have to get back at Varric for being an ass.

"Well, I'm glad you two are playing so nicely." Lady Trevelyan began after taking her momentary breather. "But I was wondering if Master Hawke would care to dance? I've been watching you stand over here all night and figured you of all people needed it."

However nice being alone with the Inquisitor sounded he knew that he'd be a dead man for sure if he obliged the thought. Between embarrassing himself and Cassandra's very real threats he knew he couldn't allow himself the pleasure. That and the Seeker's leer made his palms slightly sweaty and he was sure that would gross out the pretty girl asking him for his hand.

"As tempting as that sounds, your Grace, I should probably go and return to my letters. I've got so many people to write, so little time." He quickly noticed the disappointment in her eyes and she gave a light nod.

"Yes, writing letters is quite important and I shouldn't keep you from them. After all, a legend's attention is a well sought after thing. I'll go and see if Varric would like to dance instead."

Lady Trevelyan gave a quick nod and goodbye before departing across the room to the two who stood off to the side. Once more he found himself alone with the Seeker and she as well turned. There was no goodbye, just a dark stare, and with a quick shift he was quickly left alone with nothing. Hawke couldn't help but to question what it was that Cassandra had wanted from him each time she had came to him. Maybe she enjoyed to get angry at him but in truth he couldn't figure it out.

Honestly, if he pissed her off that much then what was the point?

Of course the Champion decided to call it a night and figured that now was probably the best time to get to those letters. After all was the better time to be alone? No, probably not.

But as he turned away he noticed the new guest from Orlais quietly standing in the doorway. The golden hue of her eyes watched him just as close as he had watched her and he wondered what exactly the point of this all was. Maybe she was there to get mad at him too, the dark haired ones enjoyed doing that to him.

"Good evening, Champion of Kirkwall," she said lowly while he passed her by. "A long way from home, are we not?"

"Aren't we all?" he returned without turning to look at her. However Hawke could only hope that this would be the extent of their relationship but in a weird way he felt that would be impossible. With dark haired temptresses like these there was never a brief hello and goodbyes hardly existed.


	6. VI

**VI.** Mage

_"It was hard to forget you once had pride in something more than yourself."_

* * *

They caught eyes as Hawke made his way to his room. There was a devious, almost amused grin that played on the other's face as he passed. It made Hawke curious and he slowed down.

"A mage, are you? And they just let you run around doing whatever it is that you please regardless of what you have done in Kirkwall? You know, blowing up chantrys and causing wars?"

The words amused Hawke in spite of himself and it made a silly grin curl his lips. He didn't know who this mage was, could easily tell he was a Tevinter through the way he spoke, and though he needed to tend to a few things Hawke indulged himself in the conversation. He needed to after having such an exciting time at the party he was chased out of and besides, those letters to Carver could wait. It's not like Carver, who was perfectly situated in the north, was going anywhere with the wardens disappearing in the south and all. Hawke was smart like that and thought ahead. Or at least he would like to have thought so.

"Yes, when you put it that way it does sound like a bad decision. But bad decisions are what I'm all about, obviously." The Champion leaned against the shelf of books as he stared at this curious man. He had a finely shaped mass of hair on his face that nearly rivalled his own and though Hawke undoubtedly should have been seeing to calling it a night he had decided that perhaps there was to be amusement here. Again, he needed the lightness of quick pesterings to shake off the spell with Cassandra and his beloved Inquisitor.

"They'd absolutely adore you back in Tevinter," the other mused while he crossed his arms and stared at him with a most curious gaze. "They'd make you their new mascot. I can already see it."

As much as the thought of being immortalized forever in such a way Hawke could only shake his head. Sometimes he could only take being famous for so long before it became absolutely tiring. "Unfortunately I am trying to keep myself on the down low these days. It has, however, sky-rocketed to the top of my list of things that I need to see before I die."

However fun this entertainment had been Hawke couldn't help but to wonder what his companion's intents were. He had seen this Mage around before, had seen him claim the library as his own special place as he passed through it, and though they had crossed paths on more than one occasion the Champion couldn't help but to wonder why now was important. What exactly was the driving force of this moment that had made it so special?

"So, oh great Champion," the Tevinter began after just a moment's break. "trying to catch the eye of the Maker's chosen, are we? A real dog, aren't you?"

The Champion rose a brow and forced himself from the shelf then. Alongside his exposed flesh indents of the books made themselves apparent with a soft, stingy numbness. The pain of the loss tingled with a bad sensation that made his toes curl. Was his desire for the Inquisitor so obvious? Did even the most common of mice see his want for her? That made him feel almost tired just thinking about it.

"Am I that obvious? Cloak and dagger has never been my thing but that's almost sad." Hawke responded after a second of bewilderment prompting a laugh from the other male.

"Painfully so. You should see yourself when she's in the room with you," he said while gaining a smirk upon his lips. "you're a walking tragedy."

Hawke lowered his eyes and rose a brow. Maybe he was right, maybe it was painfully obvious that his want and need for something so unreachable was in fact quite pathetic. Especially for a man of such own renown. Way to put a damper on such a killer story, right? The hero who got all torn up over one girl?

"All right, point taken. But things like this don't come up without an obvious solution. What do you propose I do then?" This was just another challenge that needed doing. If there was one thing Hawke knew it was that of seeing things through to the end, good or bad. And this was just another challenge now. There would be no more sulking, no more feeling mopey about it. He was the damn Champion after all and it was about time he started acting like one.

"Well, you're a legend. You have to do something of equal measure. And not get caught with your pants down, certainly." There was a stifled laugh that made the Champion cross his arms. That blasted moment of weakness would haunt him forever now and that would take its toll whenever it would see fit. He should have locked the door and now he'd kick himself for it forever.

"Fair point once more. I'll make sure that doesn't happen again." Hawke responded which had then prompted the other to move away from the shelf as well. In the momentary silence the sound of the party still going made the library shake with a life it hadn't seen for a long time. Even though it was a large room Hawke was sure he could smell the different flavors of alcohol being served by the Maker's finest. The fumes were intoxicating.

"Tomorrow when you leave for the Western Approach, be sure to be charming." the other said while lifting his finger up to stroke his moustache. "And not in your usual rugged woodsman way, but dashing. Flare you spells a little, put on a show. You know, be exciting. I know I would take notice and I'm not one so easily swept off my feet."

It seemed fair enough and though ignoring the woodsman comment Hawke decided that perhaps he would try it as so far where had his current acts gotten him besides embarrassment? Nowhere which was enough for him to agree with what had been suggested. But there was one other thing that quickly needed to be touched upon before anything else. It was just a small detail, nothing more really.

"And what of Cassandra? She threatened to cut off some important things if I had gone anywhere near the Inquisitor. I'm actually kind of afraid she will if I do."

The mage gave a low huff as he turned to face the Champion. "Be a man, face her in the eye as you do it. It will really get your blood flowing and only impress our dear Inquisitor more knowing you can look danger in the eye."

Hawke gave an almost worried look. "That's what I'm afraid of. But all right, I'll do it."

The Tevinter gave a rather absurd grin then as he nodded. The Champion couldn't tell if he was just plain amused that the man of legend was so agreeable or perhaps he was drunk. Maybe that's where the smell of spirits was coming from, maybe this entire conversation was only plausible because one of them needed to not really be there. But those were questions and concerns for a later date.

"Well, I should be heading to bed if I plan on going tomorrow." Hawke said while getting ready to continue his journey to his chambers. "I never caught your name though and I should just so I know who I'm smiting if all this fails and I'm missing an ear and two fingers."

But the mage's grin only widened while his arms crossed his chest. There was now a certain cockiness that had made itself apparent causing Hawke to give a look to him. "Dorian of House Pavus. And don't worry, people always say my name with the utmost confidence, I can assure you."

In this moment all Hawke could think of was a certain elf with hair the color of pale ash and how much fun it would be to see this Tevinter mage in a room with him. Just thinking about it made Hawke shudder with a terrible anticipation at Fenris' reaction to such a person as the one before him. He would have to make them meet, yes.

"All right, Dorian of House Pavus, I won't keep you any longer." And with that Hawke gave a quick nod and once again resumed his journey. It was late and it was time for sleep if he were to see this through once and for all.


End file.
